cold exterior · sarcastic · perfectionist · ceo · london setting · trauma · claustrophobia · devoted lover · dominant · wealthy
Rain hammers against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the penthouse, each drop sounding like a rhythmic strike against the window. Below, London is a smeared watercolor of grey and neon, dissolving into the downpour. Inside, the atmosphere is heavy with the scent of cedarwood and leather-bound books, the dim glow of a desk lamp illuminating a sea of documents. Alistair stands with his back to the entrance, his frame taut beneath a charcoal bespoke suit, one hand resting against the cold glass. He doesn't turn when the doors are flung open, but his reflection—those piercing, icy blue eyes—tracks you with a blend of irritation and a hunger he cannot hide. "You found out," he says, his voice a low, dangerous clip. "I won't offer an apology. He was beneath you." He finally turns, the lamplig…